


Twenty-Four Hours

by imagineteamfreewill



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Body Swap, Dean Winchester Loves Reader, Dean Winchester/Female Reader, Established Dean Winchester/Reader, F/M, Reader-Insert, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 15:43:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17206199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagineteamfreewill/pseuds/imagineteamfreewill
Summary: After hunting a witch, the reader and Dean find themselves in each other's bodies.





	Twenty-Four Hours

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on my tumblr of the same name on November 17th, 2014 and was edited on April 23rd, 2017.

Opening your eyes, you sat up and yawned. Something was off, and you slowly looked around the room.

“Why am I in Dean’s room?” you asked aloud, your voice no louder than a murmur. Your voice sounded weird, and after a moment you noted that Dean wasn’t in the room at all.  _Maybe last night after I got home from that case I went to the wrong room_ , you thought.  _Dean was probably just so tired he didn’t bother moving me._

You rubbed your throat and then cleared it, trying to remove the low growl that was your voice.  _Must be a sore throat. Maybe I’m getting sick._  But oddly enough, your throat didn’t hurt. You got up off the bed and started walking down the hallway towards your room. You couldn’t wait to get out of your dirty hunting clothes from yesterday. If Dean had fallen asleep without showering, just like you had, you were gonna have to change the sheets. The thought made you groan. Laundry day was your worst nightmare.

“Give me a demon any day,” you grumbled. Sam was walking down the hallway toward you, and when he was close enough you raised your hand for a high-five, just like you did every morning.

Instead of high-fiving you, Sam just gave you an odd look, lips twisted up and nose wrinkled, and asked, “What are you doing, Dean?” Before you could respond, however, he shook his head and took a sip from the coffee mug he was holding, then walked away. You stood and watched him for a moment before shrugging. If Sam wanted to call you Dean, it was fine with you. Though you weren’t sure if calling you by the wrong name would constitute as ‘fun,’ you figured that Sam probably deserved to fool around once and a while, considering everything that the three of you had been through lately. Continuing to walk down the hall, you reached your room and pushed open the door.

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!” you cried, your voice coming out in a rough sing-song. You flipped the light switch as you passed by, and the light on the ceiling flickered on. Dean was laying in your bed, completely covered with the blankets. His body looked smaller than it normally did.

“Dude,” you laughed, “Did you lose some weight or something?” Grabbing the blankets, you flipped them off toward the end of the bed. You couldn’t stop the scream that tore from your throat as soon as you turned to face him, and you slapped a hand over your mouth as you started to back away. Dean wasn’t lying in your bed—you were. You, or at least, your body, leaped out of the bed, grabbing the knife you kept underneath your pillow and pointing at your throat.

“What the hell?” your body exclaimed. “What are you doing in my body?” You raised your hands to show you didn’t know what was going on either, but you were surprised to find that they weren’t your hands. They were a man’s hands, and you stared at them with wide eyes before shoving your own body away from you and running to your mirror. Instead of your usual reflection, you were greeted by Dean’s sleepy face, and you slowly raised his hands up to touch the face that was staring back at you.

“Dean?” you questioned, not tearing your eyes away from the man in the mirror. When your body stepped up behind you, your suspicions were confirmed.

“Y/N? I don’t think we killed that witch fast enough,” he said. You nodded your head in agreement.

“Did she… Switch our bodies?” You still couldn’t believe it. A stunned expression seemed permanently glued on your face. Well, Dean’s face. Or was it yours? You held your head and pressed the heels of your hands into your temple. “Ugh! This is so confusing!” you cried. Dean laughed, and you cringed; your laugh was irritating. You made a mental note to not laugh so much, even if Dean said it was cute.

“It’s actually kinda funny,” Dean told you. “Think of all the things I could do.” His eyes roamed his present body with hungry eyes, and you punched him in the gut, ignoring the pained noise he let you.

“Don’t even think about it,” you growled. He smirked and waltzed out into the hall.

“Ay, Sammy!” You heard him call out as he disappeared into the maze you knew as the Bunker. Sam’s response was fainter, and your curiosity got the better of you. Walking towards the library, where you knew the brothers would be, you heard them talking. When you got there, you saw that Sam was laughing at a very angry looking Dean—er, you.

“Come on, Y/N! I know it’s you. There’s no way that you and Dean are having a Freaky Friday,” he said with a laugh. You cleared your throat, and both heads turned to see you.

“Hey, boys.” You smiled your most charming smile, hoping it transferred well from your body to Dean’s. The smile dropped from your face as quickly as it had appeared. “You know he’s telling the truth, right?” Sam cocked an eyebrow at you, still skeptical. You leaned in and whispered something in his ear, something he would never tell Dean for the fear of being ridiculed. His eyes widened, then he stared at the two of you, open-mouthed. 

“You— And Dean— She—” Sam stammered, then burst into laughter. That’s hilarious! She really,” he motioned between you and Dean, “switched you two?” You glared at him in response.

“This isn’t funny!” Dean shouted. Sam continued to laugh, now clutching his stomach as he reached for his phone. “Come on, Dean.” You grabbed his hand—your hand—and dragged him up the stairs and out the door, away from his unhelpful brother. As you ran out the door, you heard Sam breathlessly talking to Cas on the phone, relaying the situation in between his laughter.

* * *

 

You and Dean stood leaning against the Impala, him with his arms wrapped around your waist and you talking non-stop.

“Okay, first of all, this is super weird. And second, how are we going to fix this?” Dean kissed your shoulder, now too short to kiss the top of your head like he normally would. “Dean seriously, stop. We need to fix this first.” He shook his head against you.

“I like being you,” he murmured, kissing your shoulder again. “You’re beautiful.” You blushed, and the sensation in Dean’s body was so unlike it was in your own that you covered your face with your hands.

“I’m serious, though,” you sighed after a moment had passed. “I’m not staying this way for too long. I’d rather die. No offense,” you added. You gave Dean n apologetic peck on the lips, after instinctively looking up to kiss him, rather than leaning down.  _That’s going to take some getting used to._

Dean climbed into the driver’s seat of the Impala, leaving you to go around to your normal side. He was already adjusting all the mirrors and the seat when you slid in, and you gave him an irritated look when he crushed your legs against the dashboard.

Dean returned the look and said, “Look, Y/N, you’ve gotta get taller. Maybe once we find out how to reverse this we can find a spell to make you grow,” You slapped his arm, ignoring his laughter as he turned on the car.

* * *

After about an hour of reviewing information on the witch and searching everywhere for a solution, Cas popped into the backseat of the car.

“Sam told me what’s going on,” he said as a way of explanation of his presence. You turned around in your seat to look at him and his eyes flickered to your body, the one Dean was occupying, and then back to your present body. “This is very disorienting.” Rolling your eyes at him, you turned back around and watched as Dean drove.

“Can you help or not?” you questioned, more annoyed than anything. You weren’t in the mood for Cas’ chats today. You just wanted to get back into your own body, and quick. In the rearview mirror, you saw him shake his head.

“Sorry, but I can’t help with this,” Castiel told you. You groaned in frustration. “Y/N, I have looked, you must believe me. But with my brothers and sisters warring against each other, I am limited in the assistance I can give you. I left something very important yesterday to help you fight the witch herself, but I can’t help with the aftermath. I’m truly sorry.” And with that, Cas was gone, leaving you and Dean to keep searching on your own.

The long day of driving hadn’t told you anything you hadn’t already known, and Sam’s research back at the bunker hadn’t been any more fruitful. There wasn’t a single clue or spell that would help you return to your normal state. Frustrated and exhausted, the two of you drove home in the Impala and went straight to bed. Dean curled up next to you, and this time it was you who wrapped your arm around the other.

“I love you, Y/N,” Dean murmured, his voice soft and filled with bliss. The sound was strange, but it still somehow felt like home to you.

“I love you too, Dean. No matter what body you’re in,” you sleepily replied. You felt him press a small kiss against your skin, and then you listened for his breathing to slow before you drifted off yourself.

* * *

“Y/N! Wake up!” a deep voice shouted, and you jolted awake, your arm immediately reaching under the pillow for the knife that was there. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on a minute.” Someone’s hand grabbed your wrist. You wrenched your arm and leaped out of bed, turning to see who had woken you up. Much to your delight, you were greeted by the sight up Dean standing on the other side of the bed, his sleep-ruffled hair standing up at all angles. Grinning, you looked down yourself, then ran to the bathroom and shrieked in delight to find your own, God-given face looking back at you in the mirror. Dean came up behind you and pressed his typical kiss on the top of your head.

“Looks like it was only a twenty-four-hour spell,” he said as he wrapped his arms around your waist, the smile not leaving his face. You turned around and kissed him sweetly, only breaking free of his grasp to run and tell Sam the good news.


End file.
